Inevitable
by annieoakley1
Summary: This would have happened anyway. But it is always their choice, never just destiny. A series of snapshots as Peeta and Katniss find each other at certain points throughout history. First up- Katniss as an army nurse in England following the invasion of Normandy.
1. Normandy, 1944

A/N: I'm very new to this fandom, and I've really only dabbled in THG drabbles up until now (thanks to the Prompts in Panem challenge at Tumblr). This is unbeta'd, and so I'd appreciate any thoughts or constructive criticism you may have.

* * *

_June 14, 1944_

_Navy Base Hospital #12_

_Netley, England_

"Shh, you're okay. You're okay."

She never dared to say this to any other soldier. It would have been considered flippant or patronizing or, frankly, an outright lie. But the man before her was, for all intents and purposes, okay. Physically fine, aside from a minor shoulder wound. She had removed the shrapnel herself, and then administered the penicillin that would ward off any infection. He would make a full recovery.

But perspiration dotted his brow as he stared back at her with wide, terrified blue eyes. She reached to smooth back a lock of his blonde hair, an uncharacteristic gesture on her part, but he flinched.

"Benjamin Cato. 845222," he repeated. It was the only thing he would say.

"You're in a base hospital now, Private. You're with the Allies."

"Benjamin Cato. 845222."

Defeated, she moved on to the next bed. She could set a broken bone, but what hope was there for a broken mind? Benjamin Cato, service number 845222, was now classified as mentally ill. The shock of what he had seen and done just too much for him.

As she tended to another soldier, her thoughts wandered to dangerous places. Katniss's mother was a fabulous nurse. She could mend the body and soul of anyone injured, and she always remained calm and collected in even the direst of situations. Her baby sister Prim had inherited all of those healing skills as well. But Katniss must have lacked some fundamental trait those women possessed, because all she could do was wonder how she was going to make it through the rest of this war without losing her own mind.

It was a betrayal to the other women who surrounded her. If any of them ever shared her feelings, they hid it extremely well. They never so much as flinched at the start of an air raid, never nearly lost their coffee at the sight of particularly gruesome severed limbs and charcoaled flesh. She liked to think she was strong like them, but that was only when she was at home. Here, where it counted, she was nearly falling apart on the inside.

The barrage of wounded had now trickled to a slow stream. The days following the invasion of Normandy had been an onslaught of patients that they were ill-prepared to handle. Katniss had never even imagined such devastation possible at the time. Finally the last of those injured on the beach had been moved, and the nurses' workload somewhat lifted. Now they received a few of the men who had made it further inland, but the field hospitals were able to complete a brunt of the care.

After redressing the wounds of the last patient in her room, Katniss made her way to the tent for some shuteye. As exhausted as she was, she almost yearned for those earlier days of chaos, for the period when it was impossible to think or linger because there simply wasn't the time for it. She would sleep now only because her body instinctively shut down, but she would undoubtedly be awake for the nightmares.

* * *

She rested for six hours before she had to relieve another nurse, and when she returned to her room, she found that eight men had been moved (including Private Benjamin Cato, service number 845222) and only two had taken their places. The first new patient was recovering from surgery, and the second was just about to be wheeled in to it. At this point the hospital was an effective assembly line of sorts, and Katniss found a small comfort in the monotony of it all.

She checked on her new patient first, as per her routine. Private First Class Peter Mellark, a lower left leg amputation, appeared to be resting comfortably. He had several severe burns on his thigh but they were already debrided and dressed by the surgeon. Aside from administering medication and monitoring his vitals, all she could really do now was wait for him to wake. But before she moved on, she afforded herself one more look at him. He was young and quite handsome: army-short ashy blonde hair sticking up with sweat, a strong jaw, a thick neck and broad chest. But the serene smile he wore in sleep is what caught her attention the most. She almost pitied him for ever having to wake up.

But he did just that several hours later, just as she was preparing another dose of morphine for him. He was understandably disoriented, but his eyes cleared a bit when they settled on hers. "Hello," he whispered hoarsely.

"Hello. How are you feeling?"

"Lighter," he said, staring down at the bandaged stump. "But I guess that's to be expected."

She never knew what to say in these situations. Did she offer her condolences, and risk sounding pitying? Did she thank them for their sacrifice? Their limbs and lives for freedom, an unfair cost to anyone, she thought. Freedom, of course, should be free.

She opted for professionalism, always a safe bet. "I'll administer more morphine now, to help with the pain. If you need anything else, let me know."

"Can you hold off on the morphine?" he asked. Her brow furrowed. "The pain's not too bad right now."

"The pain's not too bad right now because you still have it in your system. So we need to keep it going."

"The morphine makes me feel…not myself."

"So you'd rather feel pain?" she asked doubtfully.

"Pain is preferable, yes."

She agreed reluctantly. "But please don't wait too long to ask, when it starts to hurt."

He nodded. "I promise."

* * *

He held out for about two hours before it became too much. "You must think I'm incredibly weak," he told her through gritted teeth.

She stared back at him incredulously. "That's ridiculous. You're incredibly strong."

When the relief from the drugs washed over him, he held out his hand to her, stopping her as she made her way around the room. "What's your name?" he asked dreamily.

"Katniss," she replied, ignoring his outstretched arm and reaching fingers. "It's a family name," she added, as she always did. It was a reflex, an attempt to intercept any questions regarding its peculiarity.

"Katniss. That's beautiful."

She thanked him quietly, unsurely, and then moved on to the next of the wounded.

Later, she asked him if he felt up to eating. He shrugged indifferently but she would have none of that. "Some broth," she offered, adjusting the pillow behind his head to elevate him. "You'll feel better for it."

"Hard to imagine that, really." But he took it from her, slurping loudly from the spoon. She let a smile slip, and he returned it. "How long will I be here for?" he asked between bites.

"Oh, usually a day or two. Then you'll be transferred to a hospital inland before you can go home."

"Home," he repeated, as if it were unimaginable.

"Home."

* * *

"Katniss?" he asked later, when she was administering another dose of medicine.

"Yes?"

"How old are you?"

She frowned, not wanting to encourage the commiserating other young nurses may engage in. But he looked so bashful and innocent, so she let the answer slip with a sigh. "I'm 22."

He grinned back at here, a kind of smile she doubted possible in his physical condition. "What a coincidence! I'm 22!"

She wanted to laugh at his eagerness, which she could probably write off as a mild side-effect of the pain medicines. "What are the odds?"

"We have something in common," he replied proudly.

He continued to talk as she changed his bandages. "I enlisted with my brothers the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Bran and I went Army, but Rye picked the Marine Corps because they have nicer uniforms. I bet he's regretting the hell out of that decision now." Her smile fell after his. "I…I don't know where he is now, though."

She looked around, saw that the other patients were mostly asleep. So she pulled up a rolling chair and sat next to his bed. "My younger sister is in nursing school right now. I think she's worried the war will be over before she gets the chance to help." She shook her head, knotted her hands together nervously. "I pray it is. But anyway, she's much more cut out for this than I am. This is something she was born to do."

"You don't think this is what you were born to do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It was certainly something my mother encouraged. She's a nurse too. But I don't know if it's what I'm meant for."

"I think you could do whatever you wanted," he said. "But for the record, Katniss, I think you're a wonderful nurse."

She felt her face warm up. "Well, thank you, Peter."

"Peeta," he corrected. At her look of confusion, he elaborated. "Everyone at home calls me Peeta. It's sort of a joke. My family runs the biggest bakery in Richmond."

"Richmond, Virginia?" she asked with surprise.

"That's the one."

She laughed softly. "I live just outside of Charlottesville."

His returning grin was even warmer than the ones he offered earlier, and she took it as a sign that it was more genuine as well. "So we share a state, too! Another thing we have in common. I bet you even hate this war as much as I do."

She looked down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. "I do. But maybe not quite as much as you must." She cleared her throat, mentally cleared her thoughts. "It's getting late," she told him. "You need to rest."

He whispered goodnight, and she repeated it after him.

* * *

The thunderstorm began brewing before sunrise, and by early morning it was raging. Katniss didn't think all of the science in the world would ever explain how the weather could so greatly affect the missing limbs or broken bones of her patients. She had heard once that the drop in atmospheric pressure caused the ache, but it seemed to her more spiritual than that. It was almost as if the earth was urging everyone to embrace their pain and acknowledge their losses, the roar of thunder symbolizing their screams.

Many were receiving increased doses of pain medication to compensate, and Peeta was among them. The effect was immediate; now she knew what he meant when he had told her it made him feel unlike himself.

"Katniss," he breathed, his hand once again outstretched toward her. "I-I was so worried you'd be gone when I woke up."

"I'm here," she reassured, gently squeezing his hand before moving to fluff his pillow.

"When can we go home?"

"You'll be home soon, Peeta," she whispered.

"But what about you?"

Flustered, she stumbled over her own words, but in his haze he didn't seem to notice. "I'll be home soon enough," she finally said. He reached for her hand again, but she pulled away. "Sleep," she commanded.

* * *

"Has anyone told you today that you're absolutely gorgeous?"

Such a compliment would usually cause her to turn red with embarrassment, but considering the source, she could only laugh. "I've actually heard that several times today, yes. But everyone who has said it was just as delirious as you are."

"Well, we're delirious, not blind," he smiled.

"What you are is wrapped in a cloud of morphine and not making a bit of sense."

"I'm making perfect sense. It's just that I've decided what I lost in leg, I'll make up for in self-confidence. So, Miss Katniss, I would like to ask you out on a date."

"A date?" she repeated in disbelief.

"A date. I would like to take you to France."

"Well that might be a bit dangerous, so I'll have to decline."

He chuckled. "Not _now_, of course. Later. After they've rebuilt the beautiful towns we've all burned to the ground. When the streets are repaved with new cobblestone and everyone feels safe enough again to hang their laundry on clotheslines out of their windows. It's so beautiful, Katniss. Almost as lovely as you are. And I want to go back some day."

She moved to sit next to him, beguiled by such pure wonderment. "Tell me more about it. About the beautiful parts."

"There are fields that look like they go on forever. The greenest grass you've ever seen, and then what seems like only inches above it, the bluest sky. Thick white clouds that you'd swear you could just reach up and touch.

"And the beaches. They almost reminded me of ours back home. The same sand. The same rolling tide. The same, but different. I want to see it again, just to be sure. I want to go when the water's not red with blood. I want to paint a picture of the shore while you lie next to me on a blanket."

"Okay." She said it without even thinking, but still couldn't bring herself to regret it.

He smiled softly. "So you'll go?"

"Okay," she repeated.

He fell in and out of consciousness as his body worked to heal itself, but in the moments he was awake, they talked. He told her about the cakes they were making at the bakery in the midst of the Great Depression, sad ones without butter and eggs. She told him about losing her father to a mining accident at around that time, the consequential struggle to survive. He told her more about his brothers, and she told him more about her sister. She talked about her time in nursing school, and he about his three semesters at the University of Virginia. And he told her about the roof of his father's bakery, about how he liked to go there to paint in the summer, and she told him about the lake in her father's woods, about how she liked to go there to climb trees and just think.

He was in her care for 39 hours before he was moved to a main hospital inland. As he was being wheeled out of her room, he took her hand again and kissed her palm.

She missed him immediately.

_November 18, 1944_

_Mellark Bakery_

_Richmond, Virginia_

As soon as she stepped off of the bus, she felt like a fool. She had rationalized every mile between here and Charlottesville, but now that she was actually standing in front of the brick building, all of her reasons failed to make any sense to her. Now her mind screamed her doubts, shouted back every reason it was wrong to be there: she barely knew him, she was a painful reminder of an even more painful trauma, it was unprofessional. But it would be hours before another bus arrived, and though there was no snow yet, the air was frigid and uncomfortable.

She steeled herself for the worst before she entered. Maybe he'd be angry that she followed up on him this way. Or maybe he wouldn't even remember her. Maybe he'd be sitting with another girl, and he wouldn't even look her way. Or maybe they'd exchange a simple greeting and a few words, and then he'd send her off and they would never speak again.

She shook her head and pulled open the door, and an overhead bell announced her entry. There were already a few other customers milling about, looking over the grand display cases as they considered their purchases. There were several counters in the large shop, and a broad-shouldered man stood behind the middle one, nodding amicably at something a customer was saying to him.

_Or maybe he wouldn't even be here, and it was all for nothing_. She sighed, tried to swallow what she knew was disappointment. At least Thanksgiving was a few days away. She could purchase a pie for Prim, and then it all wouldn't be such a waste.

"Katniss?"

She twisted to her left, her heart racing at the sight of him. He looked well, somehow more handsome than she had remembered. He used a crutch to move from the kitchen doorway to the opening between counters, and then he was standing in front of her.

"Hi," she smiled hesitantly.

"Hi," he returned, beaming back at her. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"I…I just wanted to see how you were doing."

He laughed. "You must be a busy gal if you're personally checking up on all of your patients."

She shook her head, her eyes down but her smile stretched wide across her face. "No, just you."

"Come on then," he said, motioning to a large mahogany door to their right. "We can catch up." He effortlessly balanced himself as he opened the entry that led to a winding staircase. "Ladies first."

She moved slowly up the steps, giving him plenty of time to catch up to her, even if he didn't need it. She soon found herself in a moderately sized apartment, comfortably furnished and warmly inviting. "I grew up here, but my parents have a house in town now. So it's just me." He shrugged. "At least until I go back to UV in the spring."

"So you're going back?" she asked happily as she took a seat at the dining table he gestured to.

"They could cut off my other leg and they still couldn't keep me away."

"I'm glad," she laughed. "Are you going to continue studying art?"

He shook his head. "Business. Bran didn't make it back, so I'll be taking over the bakery when my father retires."

"I'm sorry, Peeta."

He smiled back at her, tender yet sad. "Thank you."

"Are you okay with studying business instead?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Art was sort of frivolous anyway. I would have ended up at the bakery either way, but without Bran, I'll have to run every aspect of it."

"What about Rye?" she asked hesitatingly.

"If- I mean when, _when_, he comes back, he'll finish law school." He laughed. "He's a terrible baker."

"You seem well," she said.

He nodded. "I am. The first few months home were extremely hard, but losing Bran…it made me realize how grateful I am to be alive, even if I'm missing pieces. I can't dwell. It would be so unfair to him."

"That's wonderful, Peeta. Really. I know how hard it's been for a lot of men coming back."

He pulled himself up further in his seat, shifting to lean his crutch against another chair. "I still can't believe you're here. Come on, take off your coat. Relax."

She unbuttoned her long wool coat, slipped it off and onto the back of her chair. She caught his expression at the sight of her white hospital uniform. "When do you have to be at work?" he asked.

"I actually just got off. Right before coming here. I work nights at Martha Jefferson."

"You must be exhausted," he exclaimed, standing with the aid of his crutch. He held his hand out to her. "Nap here for a bit."

"Peeta, sit down. I'm fine." He did as she asked, and then she began apologizing for her sudden appearance at his home. "I just…I couldn't stop thinking about you. Wondering how you were."

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, either," he admitted with relief. "I even tried calling around the hospitals in Charlottesville, asking for a nurse Katniss, wondering if you were home yet. But no one would tell me anything. I'm sorry."

"That's…that's all right. How could I be upset with you over that when I showed up here today, like this?"

"I'm so glad you did."

"Peeta?"

They both turned in the direction of the voice; the broad-shouldered man from downstairs was poking his head through the door.

Peeta stood. "Katniss, this is my father. Dad, this is Katniss. She was my nurse in England. Took care of me after the amputation." Mr. Mellark walked to her, hand extended, but just as she held out hers to shake, he changed his mind and wrapped her in a fierce hug. "Katniss," he said. "It's so nice to meet you. I can't thank you enough for what you did."

"Do you need me for anything?" Peeta asked him before Katniss had a chance to reply.

"No, no. You two stay here for as long as you want." He turned to leave for the bakery, and they found themselves alone again.

They talked about her return to the States two months earlier, and she asked about his prosthetic ("I wear it sometimes but it's so uncomfortable. I'll use it more in college, though." She nodded in understanding). As she was telling him about Prim's early graduation from nursing school ("Top of her class, of course," she said with great pride), she realized the time.

"The bus back to Charlottesville leaves in twenty minutes," she said regretfully. "I have to get going."

Mr. Mellark sent her home with an armload of pies and pastries that she tried politely to decline, but he insisted, and then Peeta walked her out and to the bus stop, ignoring her protests. They stood in silence as they waited for her ride, but when the vehicle was in view, he stammered nervously. "I…I know the holidays are coming up and we'll both be busy, but I'll be back at UV in early January. May I…May I please see you again?"

"Of course," she answered breathlessly. He handed her the bag of treats he'd carried for her as the doors to the bus opened. "Find me at the hospital one morning, a few minutes after 7. Near the emergency room exit."

"I will," he promised.

"Bye, Peeta."

"Bye, Katniss." She turned to leave, hesitating for a moment but then proceeding. She settled in a front window seat and watched him as he stood there until she departed. He waved to her as the bus pulled away, and she smiled happily as she waved back. She didn't turn her head until he completely disappeared from view, but even then her smile did not falter.

* * *

It was a cold morning in early January when Katniss saw him again. She had been searching for him every day, fighting the disappointment each time she failed to find him. But he was there on the 11th, waiting by the doors near the emergency room just as she specified.

He took her to breakfast, and they laughed together as they shared stories of their holidays. They made plans to meet later in the week and then he once again walked her to the bus stop, willfully ignoring any problems with his prosthetic. Before she turned to leave, he boldly kissed her on the cheek. She stared at him, stunned, and then purposefully kissed him on the lips.

Over the next several months, they met whenever they could between classes and hospital shifts. She took him home to meet her mother and Prim. He took her back to Richmond one weekend for dinner with his parents. In the spring, she brought him to her father's lake, which he painted. When they returned to the spot on June 15th, one year to the day they first met, they made love for the first time.

On August 13th, they clung to each other all day. There had been several reports circulating that the Japanese had surrendered, but they were proven false. Still, it was only a matter of time, and they wanted, _needed_, to be together when it was official.

She fell asleep in his arms on the couch in his small apartment near campus. They slept through the radio announcement, but at a little after 2 a.m., the sound of shouts and horns from the street woke them up.

They stared at each other, matching grins slowly spreading across their faces. "It's over," he whispered.

"It's over," she repeated, and then they were kissing, teeth clashing and tongues tangling as the enormity of the moment embraced them just as they embraced each other. She pushed him back against the sofa and climbed into his lap, all while being mindful of his leg. He let his hand brush the outside of her thigh and then wander higher, and as his fingers snaked past her underwear, finding her wet and willing, she gasped against his mouth.

They were usually so slow when they were together like this, but once they were given all the time in the world, they didn't have a need for any of it. He fumbled with his belt buckle as she kissed along the jawline she loved so much, and as soon as he sprang free from his pants, she sunk down onto him, rocking her hips forward and growling his name.

She rode him furiously, her breasts bouncing underneath her dress, mesmerizing him. He reached up to squeeze her through her clothes, his head falling back against the armrest as he did so. "Don't stop, don't stop," he begged her. "Never," she promised.

It didn't take long for them to both fall apart, and she collapsed forward after, gasping in an attempt to catch her breath. He ran his fingers through her dark, long hair as he pulled out of her, and she settled against his chest.

"Do you think we would have met if it wasn't for the war?" he asked her.

"What?"

"Do you think we could have crossed paths at some point, here? Maybe I would have seen you in the street one day and somehow mustered up enough courage to talk to you?"

"Maybe. I like the idea. I hate to think you had to lose a leg just so we can be together."

"I'd give up every limb as long as it meant I met you."

She laughed. "The things you say. Even you can't believe them half the time. You're crazy."

"Only about you." She kissed him then, but he was quiet for a long time after.

"What are you thinking?" she finally asked.

"I don't think I would have talked to you. If I had just seen you in the street, I mean. I'm an awful coward."

She playfully pinched his chest. "Don't say that about yourself."

Now he laughed. "It's true though. At least in that regard, anyway."

"Well, then thank God for morphine," she replied. She snuggled further into him, very near sleep. "It would have happened anyway," she whispered moments later.

"Yes," he agreed. "And thank God for _that_."

-End


	2. New York, 1968

A/N: This is over twice the length of the first piece in the series. That one dealt more with K/P after a storm and this one is before it. I think Katniss and Peeta were a little more taken with the times, too, so it kind of got away from me. I'm sorry.

Also, this was inspired by the student protests during that time, particularly the SDS/SAS (Students for a Democratic Society and Students Afro Society) one at CU.

_April 26, 1968_

_Interstate 80, en route to New York City_

Gale Hawthorne only made $2.15 per hour at the lumberyard, but he spent over ten to print out a stack of anti-Nixon flyers and homemade leaflets. That was when Katniss finally got how important it was to him. So she sucked it up and agreed to travel the nearly 6 hours to Manhattan, squashed between two flower children in a car that smelled of pot and sweat. Oh the things she did for her best friend.

He kept staring proudly at his work and she watched him from her seat. "I'm pretty sure I was the first one to come up with this," he told her with a grin, holding up one of the papers. _Nix-On Nixon._ "You're a revolutionary thinker," she replied dully. The smell of marijuana wafting off of her seatmate was too much; she held her breath as she unceremoniously crawled over a stranger's laps in order to sit next to Gale.

The Doors' _Light My Fire_ was blaring from the radio, and the three men in the front seat, acquaintances of Gale's, talked animatedly. She felt out of place and somehow alone, even with Gale's strong and always reassuring presence right beside her.

"Ready to see the big city lights, Catnip?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "Anything's better than Conemaugh."

"Amen to that."

She plucked one of the papers from his hands and gave it a cursory look over. "I'm not really sure about staying with strangers, though." She felt the strung out girl next to her begin to stir, and she instinctively moved closer to Gale in response. The idea of spending two days in tight quarters with people she'd never met before was overwhelmingly unappealing. The ride alone was torture.

"Rye said Peeta's a nice kid." He sighed at the look she gave him. "Ah, come on. It won't be so bad."

"If this odor follows us everywhere, I'm killing you."

"It's just weed."

"I _hate_ the smell."

He rolled his eyes. "No complaining. This is as close to a vacation as we get. Let's enjoy it."

"We're not even students, Gale. I don't understand why we're going so far for it when there're plenty of rallies closer to home."

"Come on, Katniss, everyone's talking about Columbia right now! How often do opportunities like this come along?"

"Fine," she relented, resting her head back against the seat as her eyes grew heavy. "But you owe me." She heard him chuckle at the reminder, tit for tat a long running theme in their relationship. And then she was asleep.

* * *

The car dropped them off on Broadway, and the group of travelers dispersed immediately, much to Katniss's relief. Gale took her hand to lead the way as they navigated through the throngs of people on the busy sidewalk. She'd normally pull away from him, those little touches always making her uneasy. But New York City made her feel so small, and she welcomed his warm palm against hers.

"We've got a couple hours before we've gotta meet up with Peeta," he called back to her as they pushed through the crowds. He had his flyers and other anti-war leaflets in one hand, hers in the other, and both their backpacks on his shoulders. He was a hulking man, nearly a foot taller than she was, and she imagined that they might appear to others as a harried father and daughter misplaced in the city.

Then, suddenly, the main entrance of Columbia University loomed before them in a breathtaking view. Katniss never saw anything like it in her small town; the huge, foremost brick building with what seemed like countless columns, and more people than she could have ever imagined congregating in one space. They were in clusters, large groups dispersed randomly on the steps, or in the grass, or on the sidewalk. Many were even sitting on the ledges under the library windows. Katniss pulled her hand out of Gale's and assured herself that she could handle this.

"Let's go find some assholes to educate," Gale said, again leading the way.

Katniss held back, content to scan the area and take in the scene. She tugged self-consciously at her navy blue A-line skirt. The second-hand mod dress she wore was one of the nicest articles of clothing she had, but now she felt out of place and almost visibly poor.

Gale was surveying the crowd as well. The college was in the middle of a large student protest, though she wasn't quite sure of all the politics behind it. Gale had mentioned something about the students standing against the university's affiliation with a weapons research group, but there seemed to be more to it than that. She watched as a group of about 15 black students marched angrily past them, exchanging shouts with some of the white students littering the campus. There were numerous NYPD officers scattered around them, some acting as peacekeepers, others as antagonists. Katniss frowned. It had only been a few weeks since MLK's assassination. She could sense the heightened emotions radiating from everyone in every direction.

But her best friend seemed to thrive on it. As Katniss nervously eyed the police, Gale was searching for the future recipients of his anti-war leaflets.

His focus settled as the crowd momentarily thinned. He caught a glimpse of something that spurred him forward, calling for Katniss to follow. When she hesitated, he reached for her again. They made their way through hundreds as Gale marched forward- determined, angry, alive. They marched up the library steps, pushing past students and faculty alike. Gale stopped in front of the large sculpture of Athena, and she saw what grabbed his attention.

There, leaning against the sculpture's base, were three young men. They observed their surroundings with casual indifference, arms folded, heads nodding. Unaffected by all the chaos around them. Untouched by it all.

She could see why they caught Gale's eye, and then he nudged her with his elbow. "Look at 'em. Like something right out of the college catalog. Fucking preps." It wasn't unheard of for a group of the more conservative students to rail against the demonstrations. Gale had ranted for hours, on more than one occasion, about such pro-war activists. "Everyone loves a draft when they're safe from it," he had told her bitterly.

Two of them were now huddled together in conversation. One had a bronze pompadour that outshone the statue above them, and as he talked, his hand on the other boy's shoulder, Katniss observed his ridiculous appearance. He wore a black velvet smoking jacket over his chiseled bare chest, and in the hand not presently anchoring someone in conversation, he waved a pipe. He didn't appear to be the poster boy for all-American values that Katniss had initially envisioned. The one he spoke to was a better fit. He was draped in a dark three piece suit, his black hair cropped short.

They both turned to leave, quickly calling out a few departing words to the other boy. Katniss watched him now. On closer look, he didn't seem to share the same relaxed, lackadaisical attitude as his former companions. He also appeared to be a few years younger than them as well. He was dressed conservatively like the other boy, though he seemed to have lost his jacket and the sleeves of his collared shirt were rolled up just past his thick forearms. She stood frozen, admiring, as Gale approached him.

"Big Dick fan, are you?"

The apprehension on his face as he looked out on the crowd fell away, replaced immediately with confusion. "Huh?"

Gale proffered one of the flyers. "Let me tell you a few things about Nixon."

He took the paper and quickly adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses. "Bobby follower, I assume?" he asked as he read over Gale's words.

Gale straightened, immediately on the defensive, and then broke into some tirade. But Katniss wasn't really paying attention at that point. She was fixated on the two young men in front of her, astounded and amused by their vast differences. Gale was tall, all lean muscle, strong arms and intimidating haunches. He was dressed down, as always, in old jeans and a green army jacket, and his black hair fell to his shoulders and over his dark eyes. He nearly towered over the other boy, who was stocky and fair, the very epitome of clean-cut and outfitted like a Senator's son.

They were both very good-looking, though. Even Katniss could admit that.

They also seemed to share a similar, albeit opposing, passion for politics. As they argued back and forth, Katniss watched with rapt attention. It was like a verbal tennis match. Then, suddenly, the blond boy stopped, a brief grin gracing his face. "Well, you've convinced me," she heard him say. "To Hell with Nixon."

Gale looked perplexed. And he never looked that way. "What?"

He held up Gale's flyer. _Nix-on Nixon_. "I said, you've convinced me. Nixon's _Not_ the One."

Gale continued to eye him suspiciously, "You shitting me, kid?"

He chuckled. "Okay, yeah. I'm actually a chair at SDS here." He stopped himself and shook his head. "Well, I _was_. Anyway, I prefer McCarthy, but I admire your dedication." He handed the paper back to Gale.

Gale took the flyer and was about to turn away wordlessly before he stopped himself, and Katniss could almost hear Hazelle's voice echoing in his head. _"Manners!" _she'd chide. "Gale Hawthorne," he announced, extending his hand.

The boy looked taken aback, his mouth open in surprise, but he recovered quickly. "Peeta Mellark," he returned, shaking Gale's hand. "I guess you got in early. And Walt Disney was right- it's a small world after all."

Now Gale laughed, honestly and heartily. "What the hell are the odds? If anyone told me you shared blood with Rye, I'd never believe it."

Peeta chuckled, too. "Yeah, well, Rye's the black sheep. I'm just the lamb." He stopped, his eyes suddenly on Katniss as she moved to stand next to Gale. He stared a little longer than he should have before addressing Gale again. "Have you been here long?"

"No, just got in actually. Hey, this is Katniss. Rye said you wouldn't mind if I brought a friend."

Peeta smiled at her, shy and sweet. "Not at all. Hi, Katniss." He turned back to Gale. "I'm glad you're early, actually. I know you probably want to get in the thick of things here, but would you mind coming back to the dorm with me first? There are some things I think we should discuss."

"Sure," he shrugged. "You don't mind, do you Catnip?"

Katniss shook her head. "I'm just along for the ride."

They chatted idly on the long walk back to Peeta's residence hall. "You're in luck, actually," he said to them when they finally reached his door. "All of my roommates are at the sit-in and security's occupied with the rally, so there won't be any hassles while you're here." He handed Katniss her backpack, which he'd carried on the way. "So make yourselves at home." He gave them a brief tour of the suite- his room, the three other bedrooms, and the common kitchen and sitting area. It was nicer than she'd imagined, Katniss thought.

"You can take whichever rooms you want," he said. "My roommates won't care."

"You're trusting," Gale remarked as he peered into an open door.

"Only of Rye's judgment."

Gale grinned. "Yet you're still going to vote for McCarthy."

Peeta tried to return the smile, but it failed to reach his eyes. "If you'd rather share a room," he said, looking pointedly from Gale to Katniss, "that's fine, too. Whatever."

Katniss hated that. The implications, the ever present assumptions everyone made about her and Gale. She didn't look at either of them as she marched forward and declared, "I'll take this one." She shut the door behind her with a loud bang and then leaned against it, exhaling loudly.

* * *

She was surprised when she awoke from a nap, as she barely remembered crawling into the bed. When she saw the clock and realized nearly three hours had passed, she bolted upright. Her dress was wrinkled and her braid a frizzy mess, so she worked at making herself somewhat presentable before joining the boys. She could hear Dean Martin's _Ain't That a Kick in the Head_ playing in the common room, but the volume was reasonable. The sounds of conversation and laughter lingered more loudly, though words were indecipherable.

When she opened the door, the thick cloud of smoke hit her immediately and she felt her stomach turn. She really would kill Gale for this.

"Hey, look who's up!" he exclaimed when he saw her. He was at the dining table, flanked by the two boys she recognized from near the sculpture earlier that afternoon. Half a dozen others, including a few girls, were sprawled out on the floor in the sitting room.

Gale had bright eyes and a flushed face. She suspected more than pot. "Why aren't you at the rally?" she asked him.

"Ah," the bronzed-hair boy said. He still had that ridiculous smoking jacket on without a shirt, but at least he'd lost the pipe. "That would be a bad idea. The shit, as they say, is about to hit the proverbial fan." He blatantly looked her up and down, his lips pursed. "I hope you're not too disappointed. You don't really strike me as much of an activist, though."

She shrugged. "I just thought that was what we came here for."

"Change of plans, Catnip. We're just going to hang out here, maybe see the city. It's not like we can afford to get arrested."

She moved to take a seat at the table, and then pointedly moved her chair away from Smoking Jacket. He laughed in response. "Catnip, huh?"

"It's Kat_niss_."

"Can I call you kitten?"

She glared at him. "No."

"Katniss, this is Finnick Odair. Finnick Odair, this is Katniss. Or kitten, if you want."

"Shut up, Gale."

He only smiled in response, and she wondered what he was thinking. She couldn't have imagined he would ever be able to tolerate someone as obnoxious as this Odair fella. If drugs had that kind of effect on your judgment, then she really was glad she always stayed away from them.

"I'm Frank," the other boy, man really, offered noncommittally. He was playing with a deck of cards, and he seemed more interested in that than any of his present company. Not that she could blame him.

"But you can call him Beetee," Finnick declared. "All of his friends do." He looked over at Beetee as he shuffled the deck. "Yep, all two of us."

That reminded her, and she searched the room for another familiar face. "Where's Peeta?" she asked.

"Oh, on the roof. In the throes of an existential crisis of sorts." He looked over at her, a thought occurring to him. "Be a dear, won't you, and go checkup on him. Make sure he hasn't flung his body over the edge in some fit of despair."

Her eyes widened in horror. "How can you joke like that?"

"I don't think he would," he replied. "But if I'm wrong, we'll have to alert the street cleaners. So run along, kitten."

She sighed as she stood, even though she was more than eager to get away. "Where-" she was about to ask, but Finnick cut her off with a finger pointing toward the window. She saw the fire escape and sighed again.

'_Good thing I'm not afraid of heights,_' she thought to herself as she made her way to the roof. At least she gained something from all those years spent climbing trees in the woods. She briefly thought of her father but then pushed him away; nothing was going to help those tarnished memories.

She found Peeta sitting nearby, staring out at the sky as the sun set. He had loosened his tie but was still wearing the waistcoat. She moved to sit across from him, and only when her foot accidentally brushed his did he seem to realize she was there.

"Oh. Hi," he smiled, but again she noticed that it was off. As crass as he may have been about it, Finnick was right; something was really bothering Peeta.

But Katniss was never good with this, the talking and emotions and comforting. She was an awful friend, which is why she had so few. In hindsight, she was a terrible choice to carry out this task.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He looked over at her, gave one more attempt at a smile. It was a little better. "I'm doing all right now, I think."

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I don't really know how to explain it. I guess I just feel...expendable."

She frowned. "How so?"

"All the good I've thought I've been doing has been steadily blowing up in my face. I'm not really needed here." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a little pity party up here for myself."

"No, I get it." Katniss couldn't really relate to that specific feeling; she knew she was needed by Prim, so she always understood her place. But she still had plenty of insecurities of her own. "I'm not very good with people." She tucked her feet underneath her and flattened her skirt, her palms sweating at the admission. Katniss found she could sometimes only contribute to a conversation by tossing her words out there before she thought better of it. Otherwise she'd stay stuck in her own head, the unspoken thoughts bouncing around in her mind.

"I'm beginning to think I'm not so great with them either." He stretched his legs out in front of him, and she stared as the toes of his wingtip shoes inched dangerously close to her. "My best friend, Thresh, isn't talking to me right now."

She settled in closer, intrigued now and silently urging him to continue. "The group I was a part of was originally working with Thresh's black students' organization, but then everything went to hell and the black and white students were separated…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know what happened. I didn't like how we were approaching everything for the last month, but I didn't quit until it was too late, and now he won't even speak with me.

"He's from Harlem, so I guess the issues are hitting too close to home in more ways than one. He's a great guy, really close with his family…he's a better man than I am."

She found that she wanted to try to comfort him, even if she didn't know how. "I don't really understand what's going on," she said. "But everything's crazy right now, Peeta. Things will get better when it settles down."

He shrugged again. "You're probably right. But it's strange. I really feel like we're all on the cusp of something profound. I guess every generation thinks that about themselves. Part of our inherent self-importance. But now…"

"The times they are a-changin'?" Katniss supplied with a small smile.

"Yeah, exactly," he grinned. He smacked his hands against his thighs and looked out over the city. "What a boring first day in New York you've had. C'mon, let's go for a walk." He stood, offering her his hand.

She hesitated before finally accepting the help up. "Where do you want to go?" she asked.

"Where do _you_ want to go?"

She stared in awe at the view before them. It really was beautiful. And massive. She didn't even know where to start.

"How far are we from Central Park?"

"A couple miles, but we can take the subway. There's a real New York experience for you."

She tried to imagine Peeta, with his perfectly pressed slacks and sensibly short hair, using public transportation. Of course he must, she knew, but it was still hard to picture.

They made their way back to the common area to find Finnick and Gale dropping acid. Katniss was disappointed but not surprised, and Finnick grinned at her sheepishly. "I waited until you left. I'm a gentleman like that."

Peeta glanced over at her, confused. "You don't use, Katniss?"

"No," she stated firmly, glaring at Finnick and Gale. Finnick scoffed in response and began rolling a joint. "How proper."

"Shut up, Fin. Kat's a good girl."

Katniss rolled her eyes at Gale and then moved to the door, tugging at Peeta's shirt sleeve for him to follow. "Let's get out of here."

"Where are you going?" Gale asked.

"I was going to take her to Central Park. Is that okay?"

Now Katniss turned to Peeta in annoyance. "What the hell are you asking him for?"

"I-I didn't know if you were…together, or not." His face flushed in embarrassment.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "We're not. But even if we were, you still wouldn't have to ask him for permission."

At the table, Gale, Beetee and Finnick grinned, thoroughly enjoying Peeta's dress down. But when Katniss scowled at them, they sobered immediately. "Let's go," she commanded again.

"Try to be back before dark, children," Finnick yelled over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll protect him," Katniss called back. And Peeta couldn't help but smile at that.

* * *

He apologized several times on the way to the subway station. "I'm really not some chauvinistic asshole," he promised.

He stood next to her in the crammed car, but they didn't speak. Each listened to the sound of the tracks as they gently swayed back and forth with its motion. When she looked up at him, he once again smiled shyly at her, and she dropped her gaze and hid the returning smile she couldn't quite contain.

"We'll see what we can," he said as they walked to the park. "We can always come back tomorrow, too."

"You don't have to act as a tour guide," she said kindly. "I'm sure you've got better things to do."

He shook his head. "I don't mind."

It was a warm spring evening, trees in blossom and the sun beginning to set. "This is beautiful," she said as they found a walking path.

"It's one of my favorite things about the city. I come here whenever I can, which isn't often, to paint. There's inspiration everywhere here."

"You're an artist?"

"Hardly," he laughed. "It's just for fun."

"What's your major?"

"Political science. Much to my parents' chagrin." At her look, he elaborated. "They wanted me to major in business. They also wanted me to choose Harvard, which I obviously didn't do either."

"You must be _such_ a disappointment," she teased.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged, and she suddenly felt uneasy. "Sorry," she said, regretting what she thought was an innocent joke. She remembered their earlier conversation on the roof and she wanted to kick herself. Maybe she just shouldn't talk.

She had just assumed his perfection was obvious to anyone. It certainly was to her. And how could any parent be disappointed in such a wonder?

How could such a wonder be disappointed in himself? Yet he was. She knew that much at least.

"It's fine. I need to stop being such a wet blanket." He nudged her with his elbow. "What do you think of New York so far?"

"It's beautiful. It's…big." She rolled her eyes at herself. She just wanted to say something semi-intelligent for once. "I like the architecture?" She bit her lip. "Like the campus library. The columns."

She was cursing herself inwardly but Peeta only nodded in agreement. "Yeah, definitely. A lot of the structural elements were inspired by The Pantheon. I don't really understand the fascination with the Roman Empire, myself. I get that a lot of beautiful things came from it, but when I think of Rome, I think of the fall." Now he looked embarrassed. "But you're right. It's amazing to see. I actually don't know too much about New York architecture."

'_Thank God,' _she found herself thinking. She knew nothing about it. She barely knew anything about the Roman Empire. How was she supposed to carry a conversation with him?

"Are you in school?"

Now she really felt shamed. "No," she mumbled.

She didn't want to tell him that she dropped out in the 11th grade, forced to go to work full-time to support Prim. She didn't want to tell him that the reason she never used was her mother, seeing what she'd become. Even Gale didn't know much about that.

"You think you'll go?"

"I doubt it," she said, but it came out harsher than she intended.

He clearly sensed the underlying hostility and immediately backed off. So when the conversation lulled, Katniss felt it was her obligation to fix it. "Are you close with Rye?" she asked.

"As close as we can be, all things considered." He smiled. "We call and write."

"I'm close with my little sister," she offered. Then: "She's really my only family," which slipped. She braced for the onslaught of questions about her parents, was already preparing paper-thin excuses, but he didn't prod, much to her surprise.

"I always wanted a little sister. Thresh has four, and they're great. I got stuck with brothers." But his smile told her it wasn't all that bad.

"Prim, my sister, is on a school trip this weekend in Hershey. She promised to bring me a souvenir if I get her one."

He grinned. "What're you going to get her?"

"I don't know. Maybe a Columbia sweatshirt."

He scoffed. "Oh, I have a hundred of those you can have. You want to get her something quintessentially New York." He stopped in thought. "I think I know just the thing. Let's get going before they close."

* * *

"A cheesecake?" she asked.

The baker was wrapping it for them as she spoke.

"New York cheesecake," Peeta clarified. "The best in the city."

"Will it keep on the ride home?" she asked.

"Sure. I'll have Beetee get some dry ice from his lab." Peeta paid for the cake. "We should probably test some of it tonight, just to make sure it's good." Katniss laughed.

There were several more people in the dorm when they returned, and Peeta rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Fin, use your own place for once."

Finnick didn't bother to look away from the girl he had pinned against the wall. He was playing with a lock of her long dark hair as she stared back at him. "Oh good, the rectangle has returned."

"The rectangle?" Katniss asked

"Since you're both squares," Gale said good-naturedly. He moved around Katniss to stand in front of her, effectively blocking her from fully entering the room. "Can we talk for a sec, Catnip?" He leaned in closer to her and motioned to the group behind them. "Since we're not going to the rally, Finnick's throwing a party here tonight. Things might get a little crazy. You won't mind, right?"

Her face fell. "Are you going to be _partying_ at this party?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm not going to leave you by yourself."

"What do you even want me to say?" she asked, annoyed.

He smiled in victory. "Cool! You owed me, anyway."

"For what?" she asked with disbelief. "At last count, _you _owed _me_ for coming here with you!"

"Yeah, to keep me company. But you slept or were out almost all day."

"And you took that time to get plastered. Again, owing me."

He thought for a moment as he tried to best her. "I'm pretty sure you owed me for something before we even left."

"Nice try, but no. I talked you out of wearing that purple Nehru jacket here. So you owe me for that, too."

"Jesus, Hawthorne, you're in debt forever on that!" Finnick yelled out.

"You can hang out with me," Peeta offered from the kitchen. "Katniss, if you want, I mean."

She shrugged indifferently as he moved across the room to confront Finnick. "And as long as we're on the subject of debts and credits, you owe me. Next time you want to throw a party in my room, at least ask first."

Finnick grinned at him and cupped his shoulders, then his face. He adjusted Peeta's glasses and then tousled his hair. "Pete, my boy, I'll make you a cup of tea. Then we can all relax and get this party started."

* * *

The tea was made with Opium, Peeta told her. It was always Finnick's last resort to get Peeta stoned. He said he tried it once, enjoyed the warmth and loose feeling it gave him for a short time, but he usually tossed it out as soon as his friend walked away.

"It tastes awful, anyhow," he said as he emptied the cup into the sink.

"You know, you don't have to stay straight on my account. I get it if you want to unwind."

"Are you kidding?" he grinned. "I'm thrilled that there'll be another person here not trying to climb the wall."

She rested her elbows on the counter and looked up at him with a smile. "What do you usually do when everyone else is stoned?"

"Mostly buildup blackmail collateral, but I make my own fun, too. I'll show you."

She stuck with him as the crowd thickened. After an hour, some were already on the floor, slumped over in horribly awkward positions. Katniss was surprised to find Beetee passed out across the couch, both hands stuffed down the front of his pants. Peeta grabbed his sketchpad and pencils and took a seat on the arm of the sofa. "He'll want to remember this," he said as he drew him. "He's almost a Ph.D. in engineering, you know." Katniss laughed and leaned over his shoulder to watch him draw.

She laughed a lot with him that night. When The Beatles' _Twist and Shout_ came on the radio late in the evening, he tried to pull her to floor. "What are you doing?" she said, shouting over the noise.

"There's no better time to dance than when half the room's unconscious and the other too far gone to notice you."

"No, no," she resisted, pushing him away. "I'm awful at it."

"Me too, but who cares?" He grinned at her as moved with the music, and after a few seconds, she gave in and joined him.

It was well after midnight and most were asleep, save for a few couples fervently making out. Katniss was next to Peeta on the floor, their backs resting against the door to his bedroom. They sat in comfortable silence until Peeta stood up abruptly. "How could I almost forget?" She watched as he rushed to the kitchenette. "What are you doing?" she loudly whispered. The room was mostly quiet, the only sounds snores, lips smacking, and low music.

He returned quickly with two plates. "We've got to test Prim's present, make sure it's up to par." He handed her a slice of the cheesecake, and she didn't hesitate to take a large bite, her eyes closing in bliss. "Oh wow," she said, bringing her hand to her mouth. "That's _amazing."_

"Like I said, best in the city."

They devoured the dessert and then fell asleep on the floor. When Katniss awoke early the next morning, his arm was wrapped around her and her head was pillowed against his chest. She pushed away from him quickly, panicked. He stirred but did not wake.

She surveyed the room and relaxed when she realized everyone else was still asleep or passed out. The sun was only beginning to rise, so she picked herself up off the floor and snuck into her room. Surprised but relieved to find it unoccupied, she collapsed on the bed.

The sound of Peeta and Gale talking and laughing woke her hours later. She pulled her hair out of the braid and combed her fingers through her hair. It was hopeless, she realized. She'd been wearing the same dress for over 24 hours, anyway.

They were sitting at the table, eating breakfast, and they both smiled at her when she entered the room. Only Finnick remained from the night before, and he was asleep on the couch, snoring loudly. The suite was clean and organized again, and both Peeta and Gale looked ready for a new day. Gale was now wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, Peeta dressed in tan trousers and a thin sweater. Their appearances made her even more aware of her own.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, tugging at the hem of her skirt.

They greeted her good morning and Peeta motioned for her to sit. He pushed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her and she gratefully took it.

"Our poor cheesecake is long gone," he announced. He looked over at Finnick's sleeping form, and said loudly, "I suspect the fool with crumbs all over his bare chest." Finnick only snored in response.

"But we can get another one today."

"Yeah. Ready for some sightseeing, Kat?" Gale asked happily.

She felt more at ease after she showered and changed into a clean shirtdress, and then they were off to explore. They traveled all over the city, only stopping to have lunch in the park. Peeta was a wonderful tour-guide, and she was amazed by how easy it was for her and Gale to enjoy his company.

She was also amazed by Gale's attitude throughout the day. She had expected disappointment that they were missing out on the rally, which was his sole reason for traveling to New York in the first place. She even anticipated anger, but she was pleasantly surprised by the opposite. Maybe he needed this more than the demonstration, she realized. Maybe he actually needed to get away from that since the heart of it all was constantly weighing him down. He needed time to relax and recuperate, needed something else to occupy his thoughts. She was glad he was having fun and smiling. And that was all _she_ needed to be happy.

But when they returned to the dorm in the evening, the mood was decidedly somber. Finnick sat the dining table in the same jacket he wore the day before. "I'm sorry if I was too much last night," he said, and Katniss was shocked to see him appear so meek. "Everything's just getting to me. I needed to blow off some steam."

"It's okay, Fin," Peeta said. "We get it." Finnick only sighed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

Katniss leaned against the countertop, her brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on?" she asked with evident concern.

"I get my Masters in Theatre next month," he replied in a daze.

"Then his school deferment ends," Peeta clarified for her.

And with that, Gale's good mood dissipated like smoke. He took the seat opposite of Finnick. "You worried your daddy's not gonna pony up for a lawyer to get you out of it?" he asked with an edge.

Finnick glared at him. "My _grandma_ barely has two dimes to rub together. There'll be no lawyer." His face flashed and there was a hint of the cocky façade she had come to know, but it was menacing. "I suspect I'll be a 1-A, just like you."

_Draftable_, Katniss thought, her knees growing weak. Every morning she imagined Gale walking to his mailbox, always waiting. Always dreading.

Finnick sighed. "Maybe I'll admit my undying love for Beetee. Annie would understand."

"Well that's not going to work for me," Gale said. "I do anything dishonorable to get out of it and I lose my job. Then what would my family do?"

"You might not get drafted," Katniss said, trying to sound hopeful and failing.

"Because the odds are so in my favor?" he replied.

"Maybe I'll taint my piss like Marvel. That got him out of it." Finnick was practically talking to himself now.

"Keep it up, Fin, and you won't need to bother tainting anything," Peeta added good-naturedly

The two other men turned to glare at him. "Easy for you to joke, Mellark," Gale growled. "You're as safe as they come."

"Really?" Peeta challenged. "Because I already told the registrar I won't be returning next semester."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Peeta. So you'll transfer to Harvard or Yale. You won't have any lapse to worry about."

"I'm not transferring anywhere," he declared. "And I'm not going to try to get out of anything. If they come for me, I'm going."

Finnick gaped at him. "My god, you're serious." Peeta was silent, which he took as confirmation. "What are you thinking? You could stay a 2-S for years here. Hell, with your old man's money, you could get a 4-F for your vision. Don't be a fool!"

"It's not right!" he yelled, his fist slamming against the tabletop. "Why should I get to stay while others are forced to fight?" He pointed at Gale. "I'm no better than him just because my father's a successful businessman."

"No one said it was fair or right. But you're not personally doing him any favors by throwing your life away. You're not going to take his place."

"No, probably not," Peeta admitted. "But maybe I'll take someone else's."

"Jesus, at least tell me you're seeking conscientious objector status." Peeta shook his head, and Finnick's face paled. "Then enlist! If you enlist, you're less likely to ship to 'Nam."

"You believe that bullshit?" Gale interrupted.

"I'm not enlisting. Whatever happens, happens."

"So you're leaving it up to fate? You don't buy into that destiny shit, so don't lay that on me. You're practically committing suicide with this."

"Nice to see you have such faith in my safe return."

"Peeta," Finnick said, pleading now, "don't do this. I get why you want to, I really do, but, please, don't. You'd do everyone a much better service if you stayed and helped change things. Become the President one day and right the wrongs then. That was your plan before, right?" He sounded desperate. "That's why you've worked so hard." His voice nearly broke. "Dammit, Peeta, you're _19_. You're just a kid."

Peeta headed for his room. "So are most of the ones already there."

Katniss jumped with the slamming door, her heart in her throat. Their perfect day was now a distant memory. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run to the campus demonstration, to shout and yell along with everyone else at the wrongness of it all.

They stayed in silence for nearly an hour before Finnick approached her. "Hey, kitten," he said sadly, and she tried to offer him a small smile. He eyes flitted toward Peeta's closed door. "Why don't you go in there and try to make him feel better."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked crossly.

Finnick had the decency to look insulted. "Do I look like someone who whores out other people?" She cocked her brow as he looked down at his clothes. "Okay, so maybe I _look_ like someone who does, but trust me, I'm not. Just…be his friend. Please? He doesn't need me right now."

She bit her lip in contemplation and looked over at Gale, who was still sitting at the table lost in his thoughts. "Okay."

"Peeta?" she called quietly as she rapped on his door. "It's Katniss. May I come in?"

"Yeah."

She entered the room and found him sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his knees bent just like they were the previous day on the roof. Why did that seem like an eternity ago, she wondered.

She closed the door behind her and sat in front of him, mimicking his pose. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Katniss. Thanks."

She decided to try again. "I…think what you're doing is admirable. Really."

"Even," she continued, looking down at her hands. "Even if I wish you wouldn't do it."

He lifted his head and his blue eyes focused on her. "I feel like it's something I _have _to do, you know?"

She did. Somehow.

"So you want to be President?" she asked with a smile, and he smiled, too.

"I'd settle for Governor."

She laughed softly. "I work at Piggly Wiggly."

"You take care of Prim, huh."

He saw her surprise. "It's the way you talk about her. I can tell it's not just a typical sibling relationship. You take care of her the way Thresh takes care of his sisters. The way Rye took care of me."

"Rye took care of you?" She didn't understand.

"Our parents have money, but our mother…she doesn't care about much outside of appearances." He sighed. "And there was a reason we all made sure to get away."

He slowly rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and then held his arms out to her. His ivory skin was littered with small, circular pink scars, and Katniss recognized them immediately as cigarette burns.

"Oh, Peeta," she whispered.

She could see the muscles of his throat as he swallowed. "I just want things to be good for everyone."

She wrapped her arms around him, her embrace tight. She wished there was a way to make sure no one else ever hurt him again.

He briefly returned the hug before his arms fell to his sides, and then Katniss pulled back and regarded his face. Her breath hitched as she realized how much she wanted to kiss him. She'd never really been struck with the urge before, but with Peeta…

She leaned in and seized his lips, and he stilled immediately beneath her. "Don't," he said, and she pulled back. "Don't just do this because you feel sorry for me. Please."

She shook her head furiously. "I'm not." She leaned in again with a fierce determination, her mouth moving awkwardly against his until they found their rhythm. But when they did, and the kiss deepened, her toes nearly curled in pleasure.

She pulled his arms back around her, and he clasped her hips eagerly, but his hands stayed where she had placed them and did not dare to wander. Katniss allowed her fingers to trial along the strong jaw she'd wanted so badly to touch, and he sighed contentedly against her mouth.

A knock at the door broke them apart. "Katniss?" Gale called. "Thom's here to pick us up."

She'd never so acutely felt disappointment before. "Okay," she called out, her eyes still locked with Peeta's. "I'll be right there."

They untangled their bodies and silently rose to their feet. Peeta followed her out of the room and watched as she went to gather her things.

At the curbside, he handed her the box with Prim's cheesecake. "It was wonderful meeting you, Katniss," he said, and she could only manage a pathetic nod in return. Peeta turned to Gale. "You too, Gale. It's been fun."

"Yeah, man, thanks. Let me know when you're visiting Rye." They shook hands and then Katniss was getting in the car, Gale right behind her. She tried not to look back at him, tried not to turn her head, but she couldn't stop herself.

He was gone before the car pulled away.

And when they got home late that night, Gale had a letter waiting for him.

_May 11, 1968_

_Piggly Wiggly_

_Conemaugh, PA_

The supermarket was slow for a Saturday, and it was making the day drag by endlessly. She didn't even bother to look up at the next customer as she greeted them.

"I'm trying to have zero expectations here so I won't be disappointed."

Her eyes widened as she looked up at Peeta, but he only smiled back her and then motioned to the cheesecake in her hand. "I don't think it'll be quite the same," he said.

"What are you doing here?"

"My classes were canceled after the bust. So I'm staying with Rye." He cleared his throat. "I leave for Basic next week."

_So does Gale_, she thought.

"I just wanted to see you again. Before I left."

She didn't want to waste any time. "Pick me up at 5, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, surprised.

"And don't even bother with this," she said, holding up the cheesecake. "It's awful."

His returning grin made her heart soar. "I'll see you at 5."

If the hours were dragging before, they felt at a standstill then. Until, mercifully, it was quitting time.

He was waiting for her right outside of the store, leaning against a silver '67 Mustang. She must have gaped at the car because he looked down at it and then back at her. "Graduation present," he said quickly, but she was already getting in the front seat, barely giving him the chance to hold open the door for her.

He followed her directions to the local park, but was surprised when she didn't want to park near the trail. "Keep going north," she said. "To the Point."

It was his turn to gape. "The Point?"

"It's early, there won't be anyone else there," she promised.

He nervously slid his hands along the steering wheel but did as she said. When they reached the high-up spot overlooking much of the town, he parked near the railing.

"Why did you want to stop he-"

She was already in his lap, her lips against his. He groaned against her mouth and moved his hands to her waist, pulling her flush to him.

"I want to be with you tonight, okay?" she asked.

He nodded wordlessly, his mouth open in a stupefied expression. "Okay."

They moved to the backseat and then she yanked the t-shirt over his head, dropping it carelessly to the car floor. He slowly started to unbutton her work uniform, his fingertips barely grazing her bare skin. She felt maddened by his patience but tried to slow down with him, even if all she wanted was to feel him inside of her immediately. But he continued to take his time, one arm wrapped securely around her waist, his hand twisting the end of her braid.

He kissed her breasts as they were revealed to him, and she threw her head back in pleasure, her fingers tightening in his hair. "God, Peeta," she found herself moaning, and that seemed to set him afire, and, finally, he moved faster.

She used his shoulders for balance as she arched up, allowing him to pull her underwear down her legs. But he froze her hands as they reached for his belt. "I-I don't have a rubber or anything."

"Can you pull out?" she asked breathlessly.

He thrust against her, the denim of his jeans roughly teasing her clit. "Is that okay?"

"Yes," she moaned, the desire overtaking everything else. She could barely see straight, let alone think, but she knew she needed to reveal one of her admissions soon. "Peeta, I've never done this before."

He stared at her, his hand cupping her face. "Me either." Then he grinned. "I barely know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out," she promised, reclining against the seat and pulling him on top of her. She undid his belt and fly, lowered the zipper and then pushed the material down his hips. She felt him thick and hard in her hand and gently squeezed once before releasing him.

"Let's slow down," he suggested. "It doesn't have to happen here."

"No," she insisted. "Now."

"We have a week," he said, peppering kisses all over her face.

But she knew they didn't.

"I want you so much, Peeta," she told him, and it was as true as it was scary to admit. "Please."

He was so worried about hurting her, so taken with her comfort over his own pleasure. That only reinforced her decision.

When he was inside of her, moving slowly even though it killed him, she held his face in her hands and stared straight into his eyes. "Whenever you're scared," she told him, "think of this right now. Think of me."

He kissed her then, was still kissing her as he spilled out against her stomach. "I love you," he told her. "I'm not just saying that. It didn't even take two days and I fell in love with you."

She closed her eyes, pained, and said what she needed to say as well.

"I'm engaged to Gale."

He scrambled off of her, recoiling as if she burned him. "What?" he choked.

"We're not together!" she promised. "We're not! I…I didn't want that. But we heard that there's a better chance he won't see combat if he's married.

"Please don't hate me," she whispered, trying so hard to not cry.

"I don't," he said sadly. "I couldn't. When?"

"We're supposed to go to the courthouse in a few days."

"Oh."

"I wish I could help you, too. I would," she vowed.

"No, Katniss," he said, pained. "I'd want it to be real."

They cleaned up and dressed slowly and he drove her home. "I'm sorry," she told him when they pulled in front of her small house.

"Don't be. You love him." He cut her off before she started to argue. "Not like that, I know. But he's your best friend. You want him to be safe. I understand it."

She leaned over to kiss him and then wiped her eyes. "Bye, Peeta." He whispered it back to her and she rushed out of the car before the tears really fell.

A couple nights later, she sat on her old porch swing and looked at the stars. She used to love to watch the sky when she was little. It made everything in the world seem possible. But now, it all hurt. Everything hurt. She had to say goodbye to Peeta and Gale would be leaving in four days. What did it matter if the stars shone?

"Hey, Catnip."

She sat up. "Hi."

"Where's Prim?"

"Inside, doing homework. Mom's…gone. What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving," he said, his voice hitching on the words.

She knew this already, she thought, her brow furrowed. It was the reason they were getting married in the morning. It was the reason her heart ached. Was he only now realizing what it all meant for him?

Gale sighed as he pushed away from the banister and sat beside her. "I can't do it, Katniss."

"It'll be okay, Gale. It will."

"Even if I got shipped to a base in Germany, there's no way my mom could support everyone without my paycheck. They don't even pay half what I make now."

"We'll figure something out."

"And I can't ask you to marry me for it."

"We've been through this," she sighed.

"You know you don't really owe me, right?" he said with a sad smile.

"I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"I know." He took her hand in his, and she let him. "That's how I know I can't do this. Katniss, I want you to be happy. I need it. Just like I need my mom and the kids to be okay." She started to protest, but he wouldn't hear it. "I'm leaving tonight. For Canada. I've already got a job lined up."

"What? You can't leave!" she exclaimed.

"I can't go to Vietnam, Kat. Or Germany or Australia or anywhere they'd send me even if our plan worked. _This_ is what I have to do."

If he already had his mind made up, there'd be no changing it. She wiped at her eyes. She was so sick of crying. "Will I see you again?" she asked pitifully.

He winked at her. "Of course you will. We're not going to let a little thing like war tear us apart, are we?"

She hugged him, her arms nearly choking him as she did it. He laughed against her hair. "It's funny, but I actually envy Peeta now."

She pulled back to look at him. "I mean, he's walking straight into hell, but he has your heart."

"Gale-"

"It's okay, Catnip. Everything you've given me was more than I could ever ask for, anyway." He kissed her forehead. "Be happy."

* * *

She planned on seeing Gale off at the bus station before he left for Basic, but they said their goodbyes on her front steps the night before. Now she wished more than anything that she'd get to speak to Peeta at least one more time.

Thom kindly offered to drive her to the station, but the weekend traffic was a mess and they were running more than 20 minutes late. She barely had the time to call out her thanks as she rushed out of the car and to the stop.

But she sighed in relief when she spotted Rye, Finnick and Beetee. If they were still here, he probably was, too. They wouldn't leave until he was out of sight.

And then there he was in the crowd, standing with a tall, young black man she didn't recognize. She faltered, not sure what to do next, as the two shook hands. Then he was moving toward the bus and she couldn't breathe.

"Peeta!" she called out. "Peeta!"

He stopped at the doors, turning around at the sound of his name. "Katniss?"

She pushed past the friends and family members of other men leaving, her heart pounding, her breath in short gasps. "Peeta!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. "I didn't think I'd see you before I left," he told her.

"We didn't get married," she said, the only thing she could think to tell him. Others were already boarding the bus.

"What?"

"We didn't get married! He left last night."

"C'mon, Peeta," one of the men called. "We're leaving!"

Peeta kissed her soundly, a bright smile gracing his face. "Write to me?"

She nodded her promise and he turned to leave. "Peeta!" she called one more time, and he turned around again.

"Promise you'll come back," she pleaded. "Come back to me."

He ignored everyone's annoyed shouts as he rushed to her again, one last time for just one more kiss.

"I promise."

-End


End file.
